Blood, Sex, and Booze
by Nara Ganmi
Summary: Now, there's one thing that needs to be gotten out into the open: Kenny McCormick, although it may not appear as such, is a very complicated and sophisticated individual. Rated for themes, any risqué/mature content will be stated beforehand.
1. Introduction

**Blood, Sex, and Booze**

**A/N: Augh, sorry for the long-time-no-writing. I'm finally out of school for the summer, and things have been hectic with relocation to Hell (read my journal) and stuff, so I'm FINALLY getting around to writing again. Sorry if I'm a bit rusty, just let me know if there's any glaring errors or poorly-written passages.**

**Also, I'm planning on this being only four or five parts long. If anyone catches onto the scheme of which I "title" or arrange these (which should be easy) just let me know please. I'm curious ^^**

**The following portions will ****not**** be in this format, don't worry. It's rather grating to read, is it not?**

**Flames glanced at, laughed at, then ignored. Boo-hoo, screw you.**

**Disclaimer; do not own**

**Introduction; Connoisseur**

Now, there's one thing that needs to be gotten out into the open: Kenny McCormick, although it may not appear as such, is a very complicated and sophisticated individual. He may not be as deeply emotional as Kyle, or as devious, plotting, and ingenious as Cartman, or as knowledgeable on gay topics such as saving the whales as Stan, but he has his depths. In fact, there are three fields in which Mr. McCormick considers himself a connoisseur, some of which may or may not be included within the aforementioned people's realm of mastery. These three fields also may or may not pertain to any rational, important, or even relevant aspect of his, yours, or anyone's lives.

Just a disclaimer.

Kenny McCormick, however, would beg to differ. He argues that his fields of expertise are perhaps the most important aspects of anyone's lives. "So what if there's no college course for my interests?" Mr. McCormick begins, "There's no college course for life, and I'm pretty sure that's important." Mr. McCormick continues to state the fact that he hasn't gone to college as of yet, nor is he planning to, but, if grading himself, would give himself the "highest possible achievement level" for all of his designated fields.

All of the following are detailed analyses of Mr. McCormick's behavior and knowledge of his alleged "mastered" realms along with a final judgment on whether or not he shall be awarded the status of "aficionado" in these selected realms.

You've been warned.

**A/N: Yes, the title has bearing on what the content of this story is. It's also part of my Green Day project, titles of stories taken from titles of songs by Green Day. None of them are songfics, and most of them will even diverge from the "plot" of the song. Anyway, the later parts of this will be longer, I promise.**


	2. Body 1

**Body One-Blood**

**A/N: You've been warned; if you don't like blood in ****any**** form, then don't read this. It includes gore. Why do you think I rated it more mature?**

Although most think of it as just a simple red droplet, there are some who think of blood as something more. Under that category of "some," lie numerous subcategories, ranging from "force of life" to "phobic of it." Kenny however, thought of it as something entirely different.

Studying a small, maroon pool of it accumulating at the bottom of his sink, Kenny couldn't help but think of it as all of the above. Plus some. It was the force of their life (although no matter how much of it he lost, he just couldn't seem to stay dead), as well as a substance to be aware of and feared. It was a symbol of many different things; union, death, evil, and in some places, love. But that's not what interested Kenny most. What interested him most was how _different_ everyone's was. A positive, B negative, O++—the list seemed to be endless, and that was just from a scientific standpoint. Everyone's seemed to look different as well.

This isn't meant to say that Kenny was somewhat of a masochist or a sadist—although he was—but he couldn't help but notice anytime someone got a papercut, or bit their lip too hard, just how unique it all was. Even when he couldn't _physically_ see it, he was fascinated. Let's take Butters for example.

Kenny, being the intellectual and philosophical individual he was, had studied Butters immensely. The poor blond, although seemingly obvious, oblivious, and easy to read, was actually one of the most complex people Kenny had ever met. The pale boy often stuttered and seemed to tell the blatant and unforgiving truth, when really it was all just a mask of who he really was. But we're not here to talk about the depths and kinks in Butters's soul—no, we're talking about his blood.

Butters's veins were all very close to the surface of his near-translucent skin, causing there to be a network of spidery blue lace adorning his arms and legs at all times. They were all tiny and quick pulsing, like little freeways. When he got cut, the blood flowed slowly and there never seemed to be much of it.

Take this in contrast to, say, Craig. There were near no visible vessels to disrupt his sun-kissed skin, and where they were visible, the pulse was slow, calm, and relaxed. Unless, of course, he was around Tweek, but that's unimportant. Anyway, there was a moment where Craig's flawless complexion was hit at just the right place and angle to where the smallest of cuts appeared, followed by the steady drip of crimson. His blood seemed watery and plentiful, an obvious indicator of enough fluids consumed over the course of the day.

The contrast between these people was enough to make Kenny giddy with fascination and curiosity. How do these differences affect their internalities? What do their veins look like? Arteries? What about their hearts? Would Butters's be a quick little fluttery thing and Craig's be a slow throb like the rest of him? What about when they're scared? Bored? What about when they're in love?

Kenny's insatiable curiosity remained and grew, before finally reaching its limit. He had to know. He had to at least be able to _imagine_ what was going on underneath the skin of those who surrounded him.

And so began his research.

Kenny had never had a library card before then—he always figured that he could get any books he needed from his red-headed Jewish friend who seemed too take an interest in assembling his own library in his basement. But not this time. Said Jew would become suspicious if Kenny were to show up with a sudden interest in a school-taught subject—it just wasn't him. In fact, Kyle would be less surprised if Cartman showed up and announced that he was in love with said boy (although this wouldn't have surprised Kenny one bit—Cartman had a really screwed up love complex). So, Kenny went to a public library for the first time.

Needless to say, he was shocked. It wasn't like the cruddy thing at school that they titled the library, it was _huge_. Well, to Kenny at least.

He spent hours upon hours pouring over every book he could find that even mentioned the word "blood." In the end, he emerged victorious and confident in his knowledge, and finally he could satisfy his curiosity.

Which is where _we_ emerge, looking at Kenny bent over his bathroom sink, a cut on his chest that seemed to gush ruby streams off of the dull green handle of a pocket knife. Kenny bit his lip and dug the blade deeper, navigating past ribs and assorted muscles.

"Another half an inch…" He whispered to himself as the knife continued its path. "And…. Stop." The knife stopped with his voice, before turning and eventually carving a hole the size of his fist in the center of his chest. He grunted in pain as he gently fit his hand through the hole and pulled out his object of interest.

His heartbeat slowed in his hand, and Kenny's vision blurred with lack of blood. He blinked his eyes clear and looked at the slowing object in his hand one last time before putting it in its proper place and collapsing against the wall. His vision went black, whether from lack of blood or his eyes shutting he wasn't sure. The only thing he was sure of was what went on under his—and everyone else's—skin, before he lost consciousness and awoke in the same place he had collapsed, fully healed and just in time for school.

Analysis of this tale: Kenny McCormick receives a passing grade for his demonstration of his experience in the field of blood, as well as the rank/title of "aficionado." Congratulations, Mr. McCormick, one out of three has been proven in your favor.

Don't get too cocky.

**A/N: okay really quickly, did you see ANY parts that had little a little "i" before an italic word or a "/i" after an italic word? If so, PLEASE let me know-I forgot to get rid of my formatting for dA before posting this. Terribly sorry for that mess-up, and I'll try to prevent it in the future. Thanks!**


End file.
